Roller Coasters
by jessinamaca
Summary: Who knew Hermione Granger had a roller coaster fetish? Short Hermione Oneshot.


Who knew Hermione Granger had a roller coaster fetish?

No one, that's who. She was always calm, always cool, always collected. There was a certain air about her. It wasn't exactly snobbery, but it most certainly was not humbleness. She held herself with grace and poise, which only grew more finished over the years. Rarely was she rash, except for an occasional outburst of annoyance or anger. In fact, the more people spent around her, the more they wished they were just like her.

But she lost control whenever she was on a ride.

Perhaps that was what she liked best about them. She didn't have to be perfect. There were no tests; no people scrutinizing your every move, waiting, anticipating a slipup, yet knowing one would never come. She could throw her hands up in the air. She could slouch. She could even scream and no one would notice.

Best of all, know one would care.

So, during the holidays, she'd slip up to the closest theme or amusement park in whatever city she was staying in for the moment. She could be a totally different person there. No one knew her; no one knew what she had to be. She could slouch while she walked, spill food on her shirt, wipe food off with her hand, and no one would give a second glance. She would be wild.

And love every minute of it.

If you asked anyone who was around her, they would reply with something like, if not verbatim, Hermione Granger didn't like losing control. How wrong they were. It was the single greatest thing she had ever experienced. Not knowing what to do, what to say, how to act, was terrifying and exhilarating. It scared the shit out of her and entranced her all at the same time.

For the few times she rode those rides, she felt alive.

How could she not? When she would be on the ride, particularly a new one, the fear in the pit of her stomach was enthralling. When the ride climbed the hill, no matter how tall it was, the excitement and worry would settle in and a feeling of extreme content would fill her. She'd breathe in deeply, savoring the feeling of a slight breeze, the feeling of freedom.

The feeling of being alive.

Then, as the car began to slide downwards, her stomach would jump to her throat. She'd feel the fear from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes. She'd close her eyes, revel in the moment, and take in every feeling that filled her, for there were many.

Then she would descend into oblivion.

Her hands, which were up in the air, would wave around as the wind whipped through her. Her scream would catch in her throat, so the only thing she could do was smile. The wind glided through her hair, making it more of a mess than it already was and she wouldn't care. The only thing that mattered was the feeling she felt course all the way through her. The feeling she wanted to keep with her the rest of her life.

Then the car would make its way upward again and the whole process would repeat with a different light. This time, the excitement would overcome the fear. She knew what was to come; yet it would still be different. Her hands would remain up, as they did through the entire ride, and even though they would occasionally ache, never once did she put them down until they came to a complete stop.

So it was no surprise that during the second drop, she screamed for her life.

The scream wasn't one of fear, more one of excitement. It was an exciting thing to scream. More exciting was it that everyone else was screaming, so know one made a snide comment, no one cared, no one took note. There was no one marking down if you did something wrong, like slouching or god forbid, screaming.

So scream she did.

And as the ride twisted and turned, as each drop filled her down to her very soul, she'd scream and take in everything. The lights, the wind, occasionally the rain. She didn't miss anything, something she could state truthfully.

After the ride, her world would stop. There was the thrill of just experiencing such a stimulating experience and there was a sadness that took over, for the excitement was over. She'd smile and frown at the same time. She'd try to untangle the mess that had once been known as her hair but gave up before undoing the second knot, excepting it was no use. Brushed didn't work, magic was unacceptable, so she left it the way she did. It didn't matter anyway.

She'd just be on her way to another one.

**I swear, if anyone gives away anything in Harry Potter 7, I will report you, delete the comment, send a nasty hate letter to you, block you, everything I possibly can. I might have someone read the reviews first. I'm posting this against my better judgment, but I had to get it out before I lost it.**


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